


Just a Case of Mistaken Revelation

by J (j_writes)



Category: Sports Night
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-01
Updated: 2011-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-22 01:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_writes/pseuds/J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Fuck," he said to the bottom of the glass, and waved it for a refill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Case of Mistaken Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> written for Phoebesmum.

It was his first week at the new internship, and he was already in the neighborhood bar on a Wednesday night, staring blearily into a glass and wondering what the hell he had been thinking, trying to get into this business in the first place.

"Fuck," he said to the bottom of the glass, and waved it for a refill. The bartender was probably the sympathetic type…looked like it anyway, but Dan didn't feel like talking. Dan never felt like talking anymore, and there wasn't anyone left around to force it out of him.

"Fuck to you too," said the guy next to him, and Dan didn't look up, just scowled at the countertop, running his finger around the damp ring the glass had left. "Bad day?" the guy asked, and this time Dan raised his head to point his scowl in the right direction, but ended up blinking in recognition instead.

He knew this guy. Well, ok, he didn't _know_ him, know him, but he'd seen him around, knew what he did, knew where his office was, just down the hall from the bullpen where Dan worked. "Yeah," he agreed belatedly. "Bad day."

"Same here," the guy said, waving his own beer bottle at the window. "Just one of those days, I guess. What do you do?" he asked, more to be polite than anything, it seemed. Dan hated guys like that, the ones who went out to bars in the middle of the workweek and then tried to be _polite_. Fuck polite. The only people here tonight were the ones who wanted to get shitfaced or laid, and Dan had seen enough of the first type to know that this guy wasn't one of them.

"I work…" he was going to say _with you_ , but if the guy hadn't recognized him yet then what was the point? "…down the street," he finished lamely.

"Yeah, me too," the guy agreed, and didn't seem to want to press for any more details. "I'm Casey," he added, and seemed to be conflicted about whether to try to shake hands or not. He opted for not.

"Casey," Dan repeated. "Yeah. Ok. Well, look, I have to…" he waved at the bathroom in the back of the bar. "So…" he trailed off and shrugged, then dropped some money on the bar and climbed off his stool. If the guy followed, he followed. If he didn't, he didn't. No big loss either way.

Except he did, and Dan found himself being pressed back against the flimsy wall of a bathroom stall and kissed thoroughly as fingers worked at the front of his jeans, pressing against him through the fabric, making him moan into that hot warm mouth. Then Casey's hand was in his boxers, wrapping around him, and he was clinging to Casey's shoulders, thrusting helplessly against him. He came fast and hard, his head slamming back against the wall, a short cry escaping his lips before Casey clamped his other hand over his mouth.

He licked Casey's palm, tasting the sweat there, seeing his eyes flutter shut at the contact, and then Dan was on his knees, pushing Casey backwards, opening his fly and taking him into his mouth, tasting him, hot and salty and so fucking desperate, his fingers clutched into Dan's hair as he drove into his mouth. It was rough, and Dan didn't complain, just swallowed around him when he came and watched him walk out the door without a backwards glance.

Casey left the company not long after that, on to bigger and better things, and Dan figured he'd never see him again. Then came Lone Star, and for a few weeks Dan was on the edge of his seat until he realized that Casey didn't remember him, hadn't even known his name in the first place.

He was just an anonymous fuck, one of dozens, maybe hundreds, and wasn't that what he had wanted?

It wasn't until years later, after Lisa, and Dana, and Rebecca for the second time, when Dan was on his knees in front of Casey's couch with his mouth around him, that Casey opened his eyes and gasped out "God, Danny… _Danny_ ," and came.

His hand came down to tangle into Dan's hair, and when Dan looked up at him he saw in his eyes the faintest glimmer of recognition.


End file.
